


Red and Hunter

by Destinee Zara (LadyDestineeZara)



Series: FrUk Spring Festival 2k16 [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Adult Red Riding Hood, Death by gunshot, Drug Abuse, M/M, mentions of drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-07 22:35:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6827950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDestineeZara/pseuds/Destinee%20Zara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Francis, homeless and heroin addicted, is forced to play some twisted game among men-wolves.<br/>He doesn't know why.<br/>He doesn't know how.<br/>He doesn't know if he will even survive the night.<br/>(Written for the second day of the FrUk Spring Festival 2k16!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red and Hunter

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello there =D
> 
> Welcome to the second day of the FrUk Spring Festival 2k16, "Fairy tale AU"!
> 
> First of all: Hetalia doesn’t belong to me. If it belonged, I would be the Queen of the world. Literally.
> 
> THIS STORY IS UNEDITED! So, pardon any English mistakes
> 
> This was made for the second day of the FrUk Spring Festival 2k16 on tumblr!
> 
> Characters names (in case you don’t know) for this story:  
> -Francis Bonnefoy:APH France  
> -Arthur Kirkland: APH England (NOTE: IN THIS STORY HE HAS THE CODENAME "HUNTER")
> 
> Just one last note before you start reading:  
> \- [text after dashes] = TALKING  
> (A Romance Language custom, I guess)
> 
> Now, to the story!

\- This is the story of Francis. – the voice said, like a television announcer.

Francis looked up blinking. That voice probably was only a figment of his imagination, resulted of a bad trip. After all, that last dose was found near a dead body in as abandominium (an abandoned house where one could use some). He took his blade out of his red hoodie pocket just for precaution.

\- He is a drug addict. – the voice said with faux cheerfulness and badly hidden disdain.

 - _Casse-toi, connard_ [French: Fuck off, shithead]!

The voice laughed.

\- Oh, my! What a terrible language that you have! But what else could one expect from a homeless drug addict?

Francis clenched his teeth and stood up in wobbly legs. Damn! That bad bundle of heroin was giving him a terrible, terrible bad trip. Maybe some fresh air would help him clear his head.

\- But as I was saying, - the voice continued – this is the story of Francis, the homeless drug addict. As you all can see, it have been a while since he bathed or even changed his red hoodie.

Francis kept repeating “shut up” under his breath in hopes that the voice in his head would stop talking.

\- One day, Francis entered a build that he shouldn’t have entered and found a substance that he shouldn’t have used.

The Frenchman was getting closer now to the exit of that abandominium. Fortunately, the voice would go away.

But that was really weird.

He never had an hallucination from a blow.

Maybe that bundle was THAT spoiled.

\- And that probably would make dear Francis die in his red hood from a terrible, terrible bad trip.

\- Jokes on you. – he answered the voice with a smug smile – I’ve never felt better.

He was now seeing the door of that abandoned building. He just had to open it again.

The voice chuckled.

\- Oh, really? Are you **sure** about it?

Francis opened the door only to find out that it was now closed with a wall of bricks.

\- _Ç'est quoi ce bordel_?! [French: What the fuck!?]

The voice chuckled again.

\- Because that means that we can begin our little game!

A light turned on suddenly, illuminating a group of gang members.

But they were not common gang men.

All of them had wolf heads.

\- Here are our opposed contestants! The Big Bad Wolves! Isn’t this exciting?

They growled to Francis. The Frenchman cowered and took a step back. His small blade would be futile against those huge half-wolf men.

\- The rules to our game are pretty simple! The wolves are going to hunt Francis until they kill him!

\- Let me out! LET ME OUT! – Francis screamed in fear, slamming the brick wall.

\- Oh, but there is no way out, Francis! – the voice said in a cheerful tone before adding in a more deep and dark one – Y̧̹̯͍̩͇͓̦͚̮ó̸̮̗͡ú̵̵̩̮͇̝̮͔ͅ ̶̯̹͎̯̪̀͠h̯̩̫̪͍̕̕͠a̵͕͖͕̮͔͢v̦̦̼̺͙̕e͍͍̪̞͓͕̕ ̤͖̱͍͙͔ͅṉ̰̮̞̠̦̠͟o͟҉̥̘ ̧̺̖̥̯͖̲͘c̰̺̹̕h̹̲̝̘o̴̻͎̲͡i̤̩͇̞̻̼̕ͅc͎͚͎͚̳̜͇̀͘e̵͖͕.

The wolves took one threatening step towards him. Francis looked around in fear, looking for a way out.

\- How do I win this _merde_ [French: shit]?

The announcer laughed.

\- Y̹̲̫͠ͅo̝u͙̱̲̘̦ ̼̠̼̙̭̪̀ḏ͈͖ǫ̭̱̹̼̳̭n̵͙̼̟̳̻'t̲̺.

Another step was taken by the wolves.

\- And our game begins in one!

Francis started to run towards a staircase that was descending the building.

\- Two!

It was dark. Oh, God, it was so dark! However, Francis ran blindly on that basement, trying to find a way to escape or a place to hide.

\- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAnd, the game is ON!

He heard the wolves howling and starting to run to his direction.

Francis’s blood run cold when he heard other howls on the basement.

There were more wolves than what were shown.

He was running frantically when he tripped on something and fell on the ground.

When he looked to see on what he had tripped, he noticed that it was the root of a tree.

There was a forest growing inside that basement.

\- Are you sure you are in a basement anymore, Francis? – the announcer asked with cruel amusement.

Francis couldn’t see the moon or the stars. He could barely see the tree near him. There was close to no light there.

But he could hear the howls.

He stood up as fast as he could and re-started to run.

The wolves seemed to be just behind him.

Francis ran to what seemed to be a cleaning in the middle of those creepy woods.  

With his limited vision, he could see a cut tree trunk with an axe inserted there. The blade was shinny and reflected the little light that there was on the forest. The handle was long and smooth.

But the Frenchman didn’t have time to admire that.

Not when a howl directly behind him echoed.

There was one wolf behind him.

One wolf read to kill him.

And even if he didn’t, his friends couldn’t be too far away.

Without thinking straight, Francis picked the axe and turned around to hit his attacker.

His blow got the wolf’s head with the side of the blade, and deflected the bite that it aimed to Francis’s neck.

But the wolf recovered too fast.

It jumped over Francis and knocked them down.

The wolf was trying to bite the Frenchman, and the man was using the handle to block the attacking mouth.

He was crying in fear.

\- _QUELQU’UN AIDEZ-MOI_! _S’IL VOUS PLAÎT_! [French: SOMEBODY HELP ME! PLEASE!]

He heard a click, like a click of a gun being loaded.

Then a shot.

The sound was loud and close to him.

Very close.

At the same time that he head the shot, the trunk of the tree busted into flames.

The fire illuminated a man that had just shot the wolf that was attacking Francis.

The half-wolf, half-man, fell to the side. His head had a big hole where the bullet had gotten out.

Blood had spilled on Francis’s face.

He looked at the man who was holding the gun.

He looked to be on his early twenties, with blond hair, a strong jaw, full lips and the bushiest eyebrows that Francis had ever seen. His ears were pointy and his eyes were green.

A phantasmagorical shade of green.

He was not human.

He was dressed in an elegant dark suit and a black tie. It was possible to see his holsters under the suit. He was wearing black leather gloves.

Francis stared at him in awe and still with the adrenaline pumping on his veins.

The man in the suit picked the axe.

\- Stay down, Red! – he ordered to Francis in English. His accent indicates that he probably was English himself.

More wolves showed up on the cleaning, probably attracted by the gunshot and the light of the fire.

Effortlessly, the Englishman shot all of them. The ones who didn’t die with the bullet were killed with the axe (the man had a lot of skills with that).

Soon enough, there was a pile of dead bodies around the cleaning.

The man reloaded his guns before giving his attention to Francis.

\- Red, are you ok?

Francis was holding his knees and moving back and forth.

He was hyperventilating.

He was shaking badly.

His mind still was full of fear and terror.

\- _Oh mon Dieu. Que se passe-t-il_? _Que se passe-t-il_? _Que se passe-t-il_? [French: Oh my God. What is going on? What is going on? What is going on?]

The man in the suit kneeled down in front of the Frenchman and put his hand on Francis’s shoulder in a comforting way.

\- _Respirez avec moi_ [French: Breathe with me]. – the Englishman instructed the French.

They breathed slowly and deeply together for a few moments until Francis was not shaking anymore.

The Englishman smiled in a soothing way, still trying to calm the distressed Frenchman.

\- Better now, aren’t we, Red?

Francis took a deep breath.

\- My name is not “Red”. It is-

The man covered his mouth his gloved hand.

\- You are not very smart, are you, Red? Don’t you know that it is stupid to tell your real name to a Fey?

Francis stared at the stranger.

\- That means that you are really not human?

The Englishman rolled his eyes in annoyance.

\- And here I was, excepting that I was going to work with someone smart. But nope! I just got a dumb frog.

Francis glared.

\- I’m not dumb, you stupid _rosbiff_! I want to know that the fuck is going on!

\- We really don’t have the time, Red. We need to move on.

Francis sat more comfortably on the floor and crossed his arms, still glaring at the strange Englishman.

\- I’m not moving until you tell me what is going on!

The man groaned.

\- Look, your life is probably in danger! We. Need. To. Move. Now!

Francis only stared at him, determined to get some answers.

The Englishman groaned again in annoyance and sat on the floor too.

\- You want answers, FINE! But if our time run out, don’t tell me that I didn’t warn you!

Francis wasted no time.

\- What the hell is happening!? Why did those things suddenly appear? Why are they after me? And who the hell are you? How did you got here?

The man raised his hands to stop the questions rain.

\- Easy! Easy! One question at a time! Let’s start with my name. Hi! I’m Hunter.

Something seemed off with Hunter’s answer, Francis was not sure why.

\- Is this your real name?

The English Fey grinned at him.

\- No. Why do you ask?

\- Why don’t you give me your real name!?

\- In case you haven’t noticed yet, Red, I am a Fey, and when you are dealing with any Fey creature you DON’T GIVE THEM YOUR REAL NAME!

Francis rolled his eyes.

\- Shouldn’t you be called Tinker bell, then?

\- Haha. Very funny, Red. I should have just let you give me your name, controlled your mind and done my job instead of being nice and prevented you of doing something stupid.

\- And what is your job exactly?

\- I’m a police detective. Magical police detective.

\- The kind that mounts unicorns? – the Frenchman asked with sarcasm.

\- The kind that just saved your ungrateful arse. You don’t know anything about the Fey and now you are making assumptions.

Francis looked down.

\- Ok, that was rude.

\- Oh really? I didn’t noticed.

The Frenchman let that pass in favour of asking another question.

\- So, what are you doing here, detective Hunter?

\- I am in the middle of an investigation of a group of three dark sorcerers who have been responsible for a series of killings of indigent humans.

\- Why the three of them are after me?

\- Not the three of them. It is probably only one sorcerer. They are related, but they work alone. And did you, by any chance, ate or drank any food or beverage that you happen to find abandoned in a weird place?

Francis hesitate for some instants.

Police, the normal police, wasn’t kind with drug addicts. Would a magical policeman be the same?

Also, did drugs counted as food or drink?

He was not sure.

\- Erm… no.

Hunter casted an unimpressed look to him before grabbing the Frenchman’s arm and pulling the sleeve up.

\- You used **drugs** that you found at an **abandoned house**! What the hell you were thinking!?

Francis looked down in shame.

\- I needed a blow. – he said quietly, feeling too shameful to say anything else.

Huntsman sighed and put a hand over Francis’s shoulder again.

\- Look, I’m not judging you for using drugs, ok? I know that life probably was too tough and that you couldn’t handle on your own. I can help getting you help if you want after all this. – he glared again - I’m judging you for fucking picking abandoned drugs and used them carelessly! Seriously, what the hell you were thinking, Red! You should at least buy stuff from only your trusted drug dealer!

Francis blinked in surprise.

\- Are you sure you are a policeman?

Hunter grinned.

\- The Fey are more advanced in this kind of matter than you humans. But enough of that. We need to find the sorcerer.

\- Why do I need to go with you?

\- Three reasons, Red. One: the spell was casted on you, so you are stuck here anyway until the spell is broken. Two: without you, this would be just an abandoned building to me. I need you to guide me through the building. I came only because you activated my counter spell, the one that I have been able to cast on two of the three sorcerers.

The Frenchman stared at the axe that was on Huntsman’s lap.

\- The axe.

Hunter nodded.

\- Correct. I wasn’t able to track the sorcerers. Their dark magic is just too stealthy. So I never got close enough to arrest them. Six months ago, I got closer enough just to cast a counter spell. That counter spell would manifest itself by turning into a weapon to help the person trapped inside the spell **and** to call for me if the person ever ask for help.

Francis blinked with understanding.

\- I asked someone to help me!

Hunter smiled and nodded again.

\- And here I am.

\- Oh… - Francis swallowed.

He thought against the tears that formed on his eyes.

Damn! He was getting too emotional!

It was probably due to all the trauma for fighting for his life.

And at the same time, it have been more than ten years since the last time someone had offered him any kind of help.

It was an odd kind of bittersweet pleasure to be rescued and helped by that eerie stranger.

The Frenchman cleaned his throat and swallowed his cry.

\- And what is reason number three to why I have to stay with you?

Hunter lost his smile.

\- Reason number three is because you will die of overdose by sunrise if the sorcerer is not stopped.

Francis’s blood ran cold on his veins.

\- _Quoi_?! [French: What?!]

The detective sighed tiredly.

\- The food, the drink or, in your case, the drugs have more than one function on this twisted game: it make the humans be at their best physical conditions so they are better prey to hunt; it cast the spell on the humans without needing the human to have given the sorcerer their name; and it kills the human by morning if they survive until then.

The Frenchman was completely pale.

\- Is there a way to avoid that, right?

Hunter hesitated.

\- I don’t know, Red. I guess that the sorcerer may have an antidote with him. But this is only a guess. I never got closer enough.

Hunter stood up.

\- So we have about – he looked at his watch – six hours until sunrise, Red. I really think we should get going.

He offered Francis his hand to help him get up.

\- Why are you helping me? – Francis asked once he was on his foot – I’m just a drug addict anyway. The scum of society. I don’t think I really deserve any help for a problem that I created.

Hunter put a hand on his shoulder again.

\- Don’t be ridiculous, Red! Everybody deserves to get help somehow. Even if you created your own problems, you still deserves a second chance and support for that. And you don’t deserve to die. I guess this is important too. – he chuckled at his own silly joke.

For a second time in less than five minutes, Francis felt his eyes water and his throat close. He fight the urge to cry and tried to hide his emotions with another question.

\- Why do you keep calling me Red?

Hunter offered Francis a shit-eating grin.

\- Well, I’m “Hunter” and you are wearing a red hoodie. So it seems appropriate to me that our codenames to be the Huntsman and Little Red Riding Hood.

Francis glared at him.

\- You are an idiot.

Hunter laughed openly. It was hard for Francis to keep glaring (he had to smile a little bit).

\- Whatever you say, Red. Whatever you say.

The Fey picked the axe from the floor. He moved it around a bit and it turned into a machete. He gave it to Francis and picked his guns.

\- We need to go, Red. We don’t have much time and I don’t know how many floors we need to climb.

Francis moved the machete around in awe before nodding.

\- Ok. I’ll lead the way.

**Author's Note:**

> Making off of this story:
> 
> I really like this story.  
> It was inspired by the unlauched game "Red Haze", that is from the same creator of "Close your Eyes". "Close your Eyes" is free on Steam and "Red Haze" will debut on the 27th of this May *-*  
> I got inspired by "Close your Eyes" atmosfere and from the little that the trailer of "Red Haze" shown. 
> 
> This reminds me of my on going fanfic "In Between" haha xD maybe because the inspiration is similar.
> 
> But, although I like the story, I guess the execution could have been better '-' I don't know... I think it is kind of hushed ._.  
> And it doesn't have the same eire atmosphere of "In Between" (for those who haven't read, it is something full of mystery and uncertanty). This is more direct. I think I should focus more on Francis state of mind.
> 
> But, again: depression AND sleep deprivation took away my full ability to write good stuff ._.
> 
> HOWEVER!  
> I'm willing to continue this story AND to focus more on Francis state of mind and his story =D Like, with some flashbacks and more focus on his thoughts and feelings.  
> (And, of course, something for Arthur too xD)  
> BUT!  
> I'll only continue the story if there are enough feedback asking for it =3  
> Like, actively ask for it.  
> Otherwise, I don't know...
> 
> I'm too sleep deprived to talk more right now....
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope you have enjoyed it! Leave a kudo and a comment if you liked this story s2
> 
> Friendly reminder that you can always help the writer by giving a comment ;D I feed on them (and I try to answer every single one of them too s2)
> 
> And you can follow me on tumblr if you want :D frukheaven.tumblr.com (just be aware that drama can eclode on my blog from time to time)
> 
> I hope I’ll see ya tomorrow =3
> 
> Bye-bye! o/


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